


Oh Captain, My Captain

by streimel



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: (through sex), Deus Sex Machina, First Time, M/M, Platonic Sex, Post-Coital Cuddling, Rites of Passage, Rituals, Superstitions, Team Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-21 00:18:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13729110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/streimel/pseuds/streimel
Summary: Zach wasn’t nervous about it, not really. But there was something to be said about growing up watching and idolizing a player for years, only to end up stripping down and hopping into bed with them in the name of hockey - part superstition, part rite of passage.Zach has to wait for Sid to break his goal drought before they can finish his initiation into the league.





	Oh Captain, My Captain

**Author's Note:**

> One shot I wrote in one shot
> 
> I wanted this to be sex magic and then it wasn't but then I was like, does Sid have a magic hockey dick? Probably

When he gets out of the shower, there’s a text message from a number he doesn’t recognize, but he already knows who it is.

_Stay after practice. We will eat and nap at the rink - Sid_

Zach stares at the text for a moment, feeling something between apprehension and relief. Team tradition meant he was supposed to consummate being called up from the Baby Pens, but Sid had needed to break his goal drought before it could happen. Zach had thought he'd be called straight to PPG, to get it over with as soon as he got to town, but Guentz and the boys had gone on to explain it wasn’t usually the case.

“There’s a lot of rules to it, you know?” Guentz had said over lunch after practice in Cranberry, two days after Zach arrived to Pittsburgh. Zach had barely seen Sid at all, though they promised him it wasn’t intentional; Sid was worried about his drought, and about Flower’s arrival back to the city. “Sid has a lot of personal superstitions. He doesn’t want to potentially pass on a goal drought to you as well.”

Olli had jumped in, and Zach began to roughly wonder how many of them Sid had initiated into the team. “If you’re really worried about it, you don’t have to do it. It’s Sid passing on some of his skill, he’s not trying to get anything off you, so it’s your call.”

“But hey, he’s not a bad looking dude,” Knuckles had teased. “There are definitely worse captains to be initiated by. You could have Chara break you in.”

Everyone had laughed at that, at least until Phil had spoken up from a few seats down. “Chara was incredibly nice about the whole thing, actually,” Phil had said, killing their conversation in an instant. “But, I mean, you could have McDavid, can you fucking even imagine how awkward that must be?” Phil added, reigniting their laughter.

Zach wasn’t nervous about it, not really. But there was something to be said about growing up watching and idolizing a player for years, only to end up stripping down and hopping into bed with them in the name of hockey - part superstition, part rite of passage. Since 2006, every player on the team drafted or otherwise playing their first NHL game in a Pittsburgh jersey had passed through Sid’s bed on their way to the ice: Geno and Tanger and Olli and Rusty and Guentz, Sprong and Shears and everyone in between (except Muzz, because, as Geno had joined in to explain “goalies weird, only fuck each other”). Zach would soon join that brotherhood, not only of the team but the entire league, introduced to the show by their captains.

Not for the first time, Zach idly missed his rookie initiation from college, where the most intriguing thing they’d done was a strip show, encouraged by copious amounts of alcohol and lowered sexual inhibitions. Fucking Sid felt like fucking his boss, like it might be some kind of evaluation on his person, that if he were bad it would play into if he stayed up or not. Zach knew the very idea was totally ridiculous, but then again, casually being dicked by the world’s greatest hockey player just to score some goals didn’t seem like the most logical thing, either.

As they play more games, Zach realizes he doesn’t not want to do it, though. Really, he’s so eager for it, he finds himself holding his breath every time they're on the ice, just hoping Sid gets a goal so they can finally get around to consummating it. Zach doesn’t get any good chances on goal, either, and spends a lot of time in his hotel room, wondering if he's not going to until he and Sid get around to fucking. He tallies one point, but that’s it. When Sid slides a goal under Allen in St. Louis, Zach feels an elation he knows is not only related to the score on the board.

Timing wise, everything turns out pretty well. It would have been weird to consummate it during the Dad’s Trip, and they get to do it at home, which Zach’s heard Sid prefers. When they get on the airplane to fly back to Pittsburgh, Sid gives him a little nod and a knowing smile as he and his dad pass by; Mr. Crosby doesn’t seem to notice the interaction, or chooses to not see it.

The teams gets a whole day off, and Zach spends it with Dominik and Teddy, the gang from WBS pretty much reunited as they all get called up one by one. Teddy’s potentially in the very same predicament soon, and can’t seem to leave the topic alone, prodding at it like a cut he can't stop touching. Dominik does his best to answer questions, though he reminds them it’s been a few years since he and Sid hooked up, and it wasn’t that remarkable to begin with.

“How can it not be memorable?” Teddy asks, sounding scandalized. “He’s the best player in the world, and he put his dick inside you. And you’re telling me it was just okay?”

Dominik seems unmoved. “It really was. It wasn’t bad, but you can tell he’s doing it to get it done. He didn’t fucking wine and dine me and whisper sweet words to me or something. We just did it and it was over with. I mean, he probably doesn’t even want to do it but he feels like he’s supposed to, so it's just in and out, no pun intended.”

Zach thinks about what Dominik said later, after he reads Sid’s text. Everyone has seemed so passive about their own experience, as if it were nothing special, and no one’s mentioned anything about Sid’s own feelings towards this, and Zach wonders how Sid really feels about doing it. Zach knows, obviously, this is a league-wide tradition, something that’s as old as the Stanley Cup itself, and that Sid probably doesn’t even question his own participation, but he wants to give Sid the option to decline doing it, if he can.

 _K, see u tomorrow_ , he texts back, then pops a melatonin and turns off the nightstand lamp.

Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.

* * *

No one acts like anything is out of the ordinary, though Zach knows everyone must be aware of what’s going to happen after morning skate ends. He expects some good-natured teasing, but instead, everyone seems almost gentle, going easy on him during line rushes, giving him space in the room. Not for the first time, he wonders if he’s not fully understood the importance and respect the team holds for this.

Sid himself barely looks at him beyond what’s necessary when they’re doing drills. Zach begins to think he’ll have to seek Sid out himself, but the room clears out too quickly, everyone in a hurry to get home and nap, apparently. Coaches and trainers are gone at least an hour before they’d usually go home to rest, and it’s only Dana, Sid, and him left in the room. Sid’s taking his time, coming out of the shower as if he hasn’t noticed the mass evacuation, and Zach sits in his stall, waiting for the right time. Dana and Sid are talking in low tones across the room, and Zach can just hear Dana say “sorry, I’ll be out soon” before Sid tells him not to worry, they’ve got plenty of time to work with.

“Come on,” Sid motions to him after throwing on a pair of gym shorts. Zach wonders if they’re going somewhere, someplace they can just get right into it, but Sid leads him to the lounge, lunch already waiting for them. Derek, the chef, makes sure they don’t need anything else, and slips away quietly as Sid picks up his fork and takes the first bite. The whole building seems to be at Sid’s wordless biding, simply understanding what he requires and doing what it can to help him acquire it. Zach is sure this is the quietest he will ever see PPG.

Sid makes a little small talk, asking him about mostly about college and Taylor; Zach had met her a few times, at hockey parties the one year they’d both played at Northeastern, and that gets them through lunch. Sid finishes first, and Zach takes his time, Sid reading something on his phone as he waits. Zach watches his hands, fingers wide and thick as he cradles his phone. With Sid distracted, Zach can really look at him, up close for the first time. Sid’s got a bit of scruff and a wide mouth, and Zach wonders if Sid will use it on him. The thought makes something inside him begin to turn, and he feels himself go half-hard. Lost in thought, it takes a while for him to notice Sid is looking past his phone now, watching him in turn.

“Ready?” Sid asks, putting his phone down, and Zach nods.

Zach wondered where they were going to do this from the first moment he found out about it, and is surprised when Sid leads him back to the locker room. The door’s slightly propped open, and Zach can tell it’s dark inside; they slip in, just the light from the hallway illuminating the room. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust, and Zach stops short when he sees what Dana must have set up.

“On the logo?” Zach asks as he comes to stand beside it, a small, white sheet laid down the middle. His brain is having difficulty accepting it; they’re not supposed to put so much as one toe on it without being fined, and now he’s supposed to just lie down and fucking defile it by having sex, right in the middle of it.

Sid’s over by his stall, getting undressed, and comes back naked, dick soft between his legs. “It’s tradition,” Sid says with a shrug, and steps on the sheet; Zach doesn’t miss the fact that Sid tries not to touch any of the rest of the uncovered logo. Zach stops by his own stall, drops trou, and joins Sid on the sheet. Zach’s already chubbed up a bit, just thinking about what's to come, and Sid’s seems to glance at it, without commenting. Zach doesn’t know if he’s supposed to be into it or not, if he’s supposed to come, if either of them are supposed to come. He doesn’t know anything.

Sid helps him down to his knees and hands, kneeling behind him, but Zach knows Sid’s nowhere near hard yet. “Do you want to do this?” Zach remembers to ask, and Sid places a hand on the small of his back, as if to steady him. Sid’s quiet for a long moment, and Zach tries to look back, but he can barely see his face from this angle, especially not in the dark. Eventually, Sid’s hand begins to knead into the muscle right above his ass, and Zach knows he’s going to answer him.

“Yeah, I do. It’s a tradition, after all,” Sid explains, and Zach huffs.

“So you do it because you don’t have a choice?” Zach pushes, not trying to start something, but worried about Sid’s consent, or lack thereof. Sid’s hand stills on his back, before disappearing altogether, and Zach’s almost ready to turn around when he feels Sid drape over his back, mouth close to his ear. Zach can feel the stubble of Sid’s beard rasp against his shoulder, and it makes him shiver.

“Of course I have a choice. And so do you. I chose to continue this tradition, because it _works,_ and because I think it will bring us closer. But I’m not obligated, and you neither are you. You wouldn’t be the first to turn it down, and there are a few guys who get chirped for getting it from me, but I never laid a hand on them. So you tell me what you want to do, and and we’ll do it.”

Zach feels weirdly at ease with Sid's answer; Sid wants to do it, and though Zach's not personally superstitious in the least, he finds he wants to at least try, too. “Yeah, as long as you're okay, let’s do it,” Zach says, and Sid presses a kiss, the only kiss they share, between the blades of his shoulders.

Sid fingers him slow, because Zach tells him he’s never done anything like this, by himself or otherwise. It’s kind of a peculiar feeling at first, one Zach’s not sure he loves, but Sid’s obviously had tons of practice doing this, and seems to understand what every movement and noise his body makes means, what’s good and bad, what’s too much and what’s not enough. A few minutes, his body stops resisting and starts opening up, and Zach feels Sid’s hand dig into his hipbone.

“How is it?” Sid asks, half-grunted, and Zach shifts a little on Sid's fingers. “It’s not bad,” he answers. “Weird, but not bad.”

Sid announces a few minutes later he’s ready, and Zach trusts that Sid’s probably right. He feels easy and loose, dick half-chubbed between his legs, somewhat interested in the proceedings, and watches Sid rip open a condom from beneath his arm. It’s the only time Zach gets any kind of look at Sid’s dick, and he squeezes his eyes shut; he’s seen enough porn to know how much a body can take, but he’s generally concerned if Sid will fit.

He does, and Zach doesn’t completely feel like he’s being ripped in two, either. Sid is slow and meticulous, stopping if Zach tenses up or makes an uncomfortable noise, and Zach feels pretty good by the time Sid lets him know he’s going to move. The sensation is still completely foreign, something Zach doesn’t think he’d truly get used to until he did this a few more times, but Sid’s good with his hips, knows just how to move his dick, and Zach surprises both of them when he lets out a cry when Sid gets him in just the right spot.

“Oh- sorry,” Zach half-laughs, feeling lightheaded when Sid does it again, definitely intentional this time.

“Don’t be, bud,” Sid says, sounding breathless, and Zach will never believe Sidney Crosby called him bud while he had his dick halfway up his ass. “It will feel better if you touch yourself,” Sid adds, and that’s the beginning of the end for Zach. Something about the way Sid says it, so assured, so interested in how he feels, makes his dick stiffen even more, until it’s full and thick between his legs. Zach gets one hand on himself, and Sid pushes him down into the floor, and Zach centers in on what he’s feeling, until the room disappears. It no longer begins to feel like some perfunctory task they both have to complete; it feels like sex, like real sex, maybe nothing deeper than a hookup, but definitely something done by two people, working together toward the common goal of getting each other off.

Sid goes first, and Zach can feel him when he gets close, dick swelling in his ass. He’s so sensitive by now, feeling so full, that he sees stars when Sid thrusts in deep, powerful thighs slapping against his ass. There’s a moment of severe disappointment when Sid pulls out immediately, but then Zach’s being pulled up into a kneeling position, and Sid bats his hand away from his dick, taking over. Sid’s hand is different than any other person who’s ever touched his dick, rougher and bigger, and Zach’s already so close to the edge, it only takes a few pumps before he’s coming. Zach watches just long enough to see his cum pulse over Sid’s fist, sliding down Sid’s fingers to the towel he’s holding in his other hand to catch it, and Zach slumps, sated. When he comes to a moment later, he realizes he’s slumped back into Sid’s chest, and Sid seems unhurried, in no rush to have him move.

“Here, lay down,” Sid says, when they’re both back to breathing normally, “I’ll be right back.”

Zach lays on the sheet and listens to Sid moving around in the bathroom, probably cleaning himself up. Sid comes back with a warm towel and motions to him, “can I?”, and Zach just nods, breath catching as Sid kneels behind him, parting his legs to clean around his hole, thorough and gentle, then finish with his dick. Sid throws the towel in the hamper and grabs a water bottle and a blanket; he makes Zach down the whole thing, then scoots in beside him, body heavy as he drapes himself over Zach, and throws the blanket over them.

“It looks like we’ll only nap for about an hour, bud,” Sid apologizes as he sets an alarm, and Zach makes a non-committal noise. Sid is wrapped so close around him, it feels like they’re one person, and it’s much more overwhelmingly personal than the sex was. Zach knows he’ll fall asleep quick, tired and content and warm with Sid behind him, but he drifts for a while, half-asleep. He figures Sid must think he’s out, because after about ten minutes, he feels Sid begin to twist a strand of his hair between two fingers, circling it again and again until it drops, Sid giving into deep breathes as he falls asleep.

Zach wakes up before Sid’s alarm goes off; it’s barely 3:30, but the locker room will come back to life shortly. He watches Sid sleep another 10 minutes, until the alarm rings. Sid needs a few minutes to truly come awake, and Zach’s already dressed by the time he sits up, arms out as he stretches. Sid turns to look at him, and gives him a reassuring smile.

“Sleep well?” Sid asks, voice sleep-heavy still, and Zach shrugs a little - he feels fine, good even.

“There’s something else I need to tell you,” Sid says, as he gets dressed in his own stall. Zach looks up from the stick he’s taping, but Sid is looking at his socks. “It doesn’t end here. Or, it doesn’t have to. A lot of people believe in streak-sharing. Like, you know, you’re scoring for a while, something like that, you sleep with someone else who wants a boost. Especially in the playoffs. So if you ever want to do this again, whenever, just let me know. You’ll kind of figure out now who shares and who doesn’t - guys will let you in on it.”

Zach’s mind instantly goes to Geno, in the middle of his own crazy goal streak, and with a dick that makes Sid’s pale in comparison, and shakes himself at the thought. “I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.”

Sid laughs, probably at his succinctness. “And if it’s you, guys might come asking. Just so you know. And sometimes you get a good thing going with someone, you know, you have a big game after you get together, so you sort of become someone’s good luck charm. Just something to keep in mind.”

As the rest of the team starts to file in, Zach can’t help but imagine who and when and how often. But he sees the easiness between almost all of them, arms draped around waists, chins hooked over bare shoulders, and thinks maybe none of this was so crazy after all. No one says anything to him directly, but there are a few waggled eyebrows, a few elbows in the side, and Zach finds himself smiling back.

Dominik and Teddy catch up with him at dinner, and Teddy leans close. “It was okay, yeah?”

Zach chews his pasta, cutting his eyes at Dominik before relaxing. “Yeah, it was fine. Nothing special. I’ve had worse.” Teddy loses his mind a little at that, but Dominik gives him a knowing look.

He’ll never, ever forget this. Ever.

* * *

No one says anything after his first goal, and leaves him to his own exuberant celebration, head taps and shoulder slaps and grins all the way down the bench. By the second one, Zach can tell they’re itching to tease, wanting to let go. When they get back into the room, after he’s given his little speech as the first star of the night, the room explodes, everyone shouting at once.

“Reese’s Pieces got that good D!” Reaver yells, making his side of the room laugh, and Zach also hears someone behind him yell, “now Sid’s not gonna score for another ten games.” Zach already knows he’s going to get the helmet, and sure enough, Sid says his own talk and hands it off to him, ignoring the whistles and catcalls.

Zach thanks everyone for welcoming him, talks about how excited he is to be up with the team and how they’re the best fucking team in the league, and everyone whoops at everything he says. He goes to finish, and everyone goes dead quiet, and he figures, why the hell not?

“Oh, and I can’t forget,” he starts, and everyone waits. “Thanks to Sid’s dick for the goals.”

Everyone fucking _loses_ it, and Sid gives him a good-natured nod from across the room.

Zach definitely will never forget any part of this day, in his life.

**Author's Note:**

> I think I kind of want to write another fic in this verse, some type of streak sharing...I just don't know who it will be


End file.
